For those of you who've read the first chapter back when this was a one-shot: Go back and re-read the first chapter. I've changed a good deal of things and added information to the end. For those of you who are just now hopping aboard by humble faninfliction: Welcome! Make yourself at home, make yourself some tea and please give me any feedback you deem relevant. I'd love to hear from you all!
I'm not 100% sure when I'll have the next chapter up. It may be tomorrow, it may be in a week, it may be in a month. I don't know. I've yet to complete a good deal of the final draft. I will eventually update, but I cannot state exactly when.
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I knew that this girl would be the death of me. Anytime I captured the attention of someone vaguely interesting, they were always viciously torn from my grasp. Eventually we will be reunited, but that day seems to grow farther away as the hours pass.
It is not a ludicrous muggle religious belief; It is as reputable as fact in the wizarding world. While you cannot live after death, you can (and do) survive. Horcruxes are a preferred method for those without a comforting hand waiting for them beyond the veil, as is the use of various stones; These are merely the fantasies of a deluded mind brought to life. While it is not uncommon for one to fear death, to attempt to fight it's inevitable conclusion is essentially pointless. She will come for you, and she will win the game, for she cannot feel; Mistress Morte merely is the enforcer. However, what is essentially life (i.e. the soul) carries on after the body ceases to function, and the soul is given a choice; return to the land of the physically living as a ghost or as a part of another worldly object, or you can step into the beyond where those comfortable with their demise reside. I cannot say for sure whether or not Lily indeed rests there, however I've had no luck finding an imprint of her in this world. I do not believe that she is, not yet anyhow, nor will she be until the person who'd slain her is forced into non-existence. Do you crave more information on the mechanics of death, or may I continue telling my tale? (If so, Grim Tales by Emilie Lichtenstein is an excellent text on the subject, of which I highly recommend.)
Unfortunately, I longed to find a friend of whom, like myself, was raised in a house opposed to a home. I wanted empathy, a companion that would never want to leave me to my depraved adolescent thoughts. After all of these years, I never did find that someone. I've met many (and I mean many) poor immitators along the way; All of whom attempted to persuade me into doing the same to other misfits like myself. Two succeeded, but their restraints didn't hold for long.
I suppose I'll delve into that mess a bit later. I'd rather not bore you with the details of my stupidity quite yet. No, I'd rather educate you. The subject? Lily Evans.
The first time I encountered the wondrous creature, I was a boy of merely eight years. She, still seven, but only just. At the time, I wasn't interested in anything but companionship, and was not attracted to her. Romantic feelings were to come a mere three years later. Do not confuse attraction with intrigue, dear dearer, for it would be a fatal mistake.
I'd never seen anyone like her before. Her fair skin, vibrant green eyes and divine red hair was all so foreign to me; She was sunshine personified. Everything about her was mesmerizing, even to child Severus. I couldn't wait to meet her, to speak with her, to know her and see if she was like me in any way. Just as I was beginning to feel disappointed about not being able to befriend her, as I was destined for Hogwarts, she proved me wrong.
And then, she flew off her swing. She didn't slip off, she didn't fall off; she levitated. The swing, moved only by the light breeze and her weight gently leaning backward. At first, she looked terrified. Then she started moving downward, but when she realized that the power was in her delicate hands a smile spread atop her pale pink lips. It was at that moment I realized she was no ordinary girl by wizarding or muggle standards; Not by any means. There was no doubt in my mind that she was extraordinary.